Untold Stories
by Undisclosed
Summary: Yet another S5 supplement, focusing mainly on Lorelai and Luke. Part 2: Processing and Progressing - Lorelai tells Rory about the reconciliation. Post "So... Good Talk." SERIES - WORK IN PROGRESS.
1. The Luke Box

Luke quietly slid out of Lorelai's arms, careful not to wake her up. He eased himself out of the bed and began hunting for his clothes, which were strewn in various corners of the room, thanks to their ardent love-making the night before. Luke grinned as he recalled each time that Lorelai had backed him into a corner or edge of some sort in her eagerness to hold as much of him as she could. Not that he had minded, of course, but there would definitely be a couple of tell-tale bruises to show.

A soft sigh from the bed caught his attention, and he turned to see Lorelai shift around in her sleep, her face bearing an expression of utmost contentment. Her eyes were closed, but a smile played around her lips as she shifted towards him, burrowing deeper into the covers as she curled up into a ball. The happiness radiating from her was so powerful that it almost erased the memory of her heartbroken countenance in the past few weeks. Almost.

Luke's brow furrowed as he remembered the agony that was the past few weeks. It had all but killed him to stay away from Lorelai, to maintain the bridge that had suddenly crept up between them without warning. He recalled that cold night on Lorelai's porch, when she had choked out, through her tears, that she would stay away from him, as he had bluntly told her to do, in front of all Stars Hollow. Luke remembered waiting in vain for Lorelai to come bounding into the diner energetically the next morning, waiting for her to pester him for coffee, longing to give her a lingering kiss (PDA be damned), aching to carry out their usual breakfast song-and-dance as if nothing had happened. He remembered praying that she had not taken his words to heart, that she would march in and tell him, again, that she was still "all in".

But no. He had shied away, allowing a tiny shred of self-doubt to malign his faith in Lorelai. OK, so she had gone to visit Chris. Big deal. Sure, he might have been jealous, but he had blown it completely out of proportion. Maybe it was his annoyance at the snobbery of the Gilmores. Maybe it was their insidious snubs, silkily telling him that he didn't belong in Lorelai's world. Maybe it was his disappointment that Lorelai had lied to him. He'd let those tiny details gnaw at him, and instead of confiding in her, he'd simply shut her out.

The whispered conversations that customers thought, or pretended, that he hadn't heard told him how Lorelai had been hunting for him. Babette and Miss Patty swapped notes in hushed tones, telling each other how bad a liar Lorelai was when it came to all things Luke-related. "Big fight" was written all over Lorelai's face, Babette told Miss Patty knowingly. Caesar, when he stopped to serve a customer, muttered that Lorelai had been quite frantic each time she'd passed the diner (he'd counted five times in all, though he was sure that there were more). And Kirk complained to Andrew about Lorelai's theft of his towel, and the way she'd interrupted his winning game on the dance machine to pester him about Luke's whereabouts. He wouldn't have been half as magnanimous, Kirk added, if Lorelai hadn't looked as if she were about to cry. "If there's one thing Mother didn't teach me, it's how to console a weeping woman." Andrew nodded emphatically in agreement, adding that that was why he'd let her just barge in and out of his bookshop, even though customers were complaining about the interruption long after she'd left.

And the damned ribbons. It seemed that all of Stars Hollow was part of some weird battle of the sexes, with Luke and Lorelai as the figureheads. Luke couldn't recall a single person not sporting a single one of those blasted things. He'd noticed that the blue-ribboners frequented his diner more often, leaving him extra-large tips and stoically munching the burnt food placed in front of them. The pink-ribboners, on the other hand, were avid Weston-ers. He'd walked past Weston's one morning, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lorelai. She hadn't been there, and he had been more than eager to leave when Gypsy and a few of her buddies fixated him with a glare. Luke had been more than happy to start throwing out his customers after that, blue ribbon or pink, hell, ribbon or not. Why not, when the one customer he wanted more than any one else wasn't going to come by?

The play was yet another painful reminder of the relationship that seemed no more. Had he and Lorelai still been together, they would have turned the backstage experience into yet another shared memory. He would have been building the sets, and she would have been close to him, deftly costuming the budding thespians and making them up. He would have grumbled and groused about her roping him into this debacle, but would have been secretly pleased at being able to spend more time with her. Instead, she'd stayed true to her word and kept her distance from him, leaving him to deal with Crazy Carrie, a drama queen Kirk, and a kid who seemed oddly fixated with his lesbian mom. The only time that they had been together at the play was during "the song" when he longed to tell her that he loved her, with the same ease as that with which Tevye was proclaiming his love for his wife. Stealing the odd glance at her face, which bore traces of strain and misery, and sharing wistful, fearful looks, had to suffice. How he'd longed to whisk her into his arms and take back the past week. But obviously his feeling this way wasn't enough to make her stay – she'd retreated to that god-awful empty garage (which he vowed to paint over as soon as he could), and he had nowhere to go but the diner.

Thinking about the garage, Luke remembered his boat. Lorelai didn't know that he knew that she'd prevented his boat from being towed. He'd only realized it when Kirk, manfully struggling to swallow his "Cajun pancake", informed him of it. Luke had rushed over to the door, ready to take this as a signal that he should go to her, fall onto his knees in front of the whole damn town and, worse, Taylor. But she'd fled, and he'd swallowed back a bitter wave of disappointment to go and bark at some blameless couple, innocently kissing at a corner table.

As Luke pulled on his jeans, he couldn't help but wonder why Emily Gilmore's appearance convinced him that he had to go to Lorelai. She had told him herself that she was all in, ready, willing and able to commit to him as she had never done for any other man. Emily had told him, in no uncertain terms, that she was in no way going to condone their relationship, and that she was only there to tell him that Lorelai wasn't speaking to her because of her interference. Blessing, no. Ungracious declaration, yes.

Luke had always known that his relationship with Lorelai would be different. He knew, right from their first kiss, that he was as much in love with her, perhaps more, than he had ever been. He knew that she hadn't taken their relationship lightly either, that she was trying to make this one different to her others. Then why was it that he had to hear it, from Emily Gilmore, of all people, that he meant something to Lorelai? Why did he have to turn around and gaze after her, watching her stalk off while Kirk fervently cleaned his breath off the glass, for it to dawn on him that he should close up, pull on his beaten jacket, and run to Lorelai's door, banging in earnest until she finally opened it and he was able to show her what he had not been able to say?

Luke pulled himself out of his reverie and quickly donned the rest of his clothes, jamming the worn blue baseball cap onto his head. He cast one last glance at Lorelai, and after pausing for a minute, walked over to her side, bending down to brush a feather-light kiss on her hair. He brushed a lock of hair off her face, noting with some regret the dark circles around her eyes, mirroring those that he was sure graced his own.

With sheer willpower, Luke dragged himself away and strode briskly down the stairs, wincing as a floorboard creaked in protest. He was half-way out the kitchen door when it occurred to him to leave a note. Luke hunted in vain around the kitchen, but all he could find was a chewed-up ball-point pen (a habit of Lorelai's that Luke was determined to break). Grimacing slightly, he glanced into Rory's room. He guiltily ventured in, and grabbed a pad of yellow Post-it notes, darting out as quickly as his feet would take him. Luke poised the pen, ready to write, when five words on the Post-it, in Rory's precise handwriting, caught his eye – _Give Luke box to Luke._

He froze, knowing all too well what "the box" meant. A few months ago, he had come over to fix the railing in the coat closet, and had spied a cardboard carton filled to the brim with odd CDs, a box of corn starch, an orange chicken, and a few clothes. The box had had "DEAN" printed on it in bold letters, and when Lorelai had caught him, she'd explained its significance.

"The box is always the hardest part," she'd explained, pulling it down and fiddling with a couple of its contents. "You have to force yourself to come to terms with the fact that it's over. It's the best and the worst thing that you can do. A catharsis that is by no means painless."

"Then why do you do it?" he'd shot back.

"Because that's the only way we Gilmores know that it's time to let go." They'd looked at each other for a moment, and then regarded the box. "Let's put this back for Rory to handle." He nodded, then heaved it back to its original position, putting the covers back as he'd found it.

Luke stared at the Post-it, re-reading the words, mouthing them, as if it would help him gauge their significance. Then, as if drawn by a powerful magnet, he walked across to the coat closet and raised his hand to open it, but his eye fell on a large, closed carton just behind the couch. He lifted it up, surprised at how heavy it was, and set it on the kitchen table. He debated for a moment whether or not he should open it, but a mixture of fear, anticipation and curiosity overwhelmed him, compelling him to lift off the lid.

The contents inside were stacked haphazardly, so he knew that it had to be Lorelai's doing. However meticulous Lorelai was at work, the same concept did not apply at home. He lifted out a pair of yellow boots, size 9, still in their packaging, with the mailing envelope still attached. Next followed a blue plaid flannel shirt, the same one which Lorelai had worn when she'd come down into the diner after their first night together. Luke then lifted out a pair of white ice skates, the same pair which he had fixed four years ago, and the same ones which she'd worn to skate on the pond he'd built her.

The tools that followed were the same ones that were missing from Bert – a spare hammer, a small flat-head screwdriver and a wrench. Luke winced as he saw his beloved hammer, his faithful companion for the last fifteen or so years, decked out in feathers, sequins and rhinestones. A box of fishing line and hooks joined the tools on the table. Luke couldn't imagine why she would want to remember an activity that led to a disastrous date, but he was more than a little touched that she treasured even the little moments, when they hadn't been dating.

Luke pulled out the manual to his oven. He flipped it open and smiled when he saw Lorelai's footnotes, such as "If all else fails, beat the crap out of it". And "Call Lorelai so that we can go oven shopping together". He snorted when he saw "Let her pick the oven, preferably a pink one." The book was covered with like sentiments. He set it aside with his tools.

Next to follow were a bundle of clothes. He immediately recognized the dress as the same one which she'd worn to Liz's wedding, and with it was the wreath she'd worn in her hair, and even the shoes. He reached for the small jewellery box and flipped it open, fingering the earrings and necklace that he'd gotten her. Other clothes included the outfit she'd worn to paint his diner. He lifted the paint spattered headscarf to his nose, inhaling the lingering smells of paint, turpentine, and her flowery shampoo. The outfit that Lorelai had worn to her parents' vow renewal was also there, and the fragrance of her perfume, mixed with her own unique scent, was even more intoxicating.

Luke recognized the baseball cap as his old one, the olive green cap that had been a permanent part of his attire until Lorelai gave him his current one. He couldn't imagine how Lorelai had gotten hold of it, as she had done the three flannel shirts that followed the cap. Even more astonishing was that she'd picked the three shirts he'd always favoured, the ones that he chose first. He was determined to find out how she'd pilfered them on the sly.

The cloth napkin that he lifted out was one from Sniffy's Tavern. It, however, bore no resemblance to its counterparts back with Buddy and Maisie, because it was covered in Lorelai's messy handwriting. He made it out to be as a list of firsts, detailing every event, from their first ever meeting, to the first night they had spent together. There were even the smallest things, such as their first ever snow together and the first dinner that they had.

Finally, Luke lifted out a bundle of photos and napkins. As everyone knew, Luke was extremely camera-phobic, so it was a rare thing for him to see himself in colour print. Most of the photos were candid shots, from Rory's 16th birthday party to Liz's wedding, to snaps of the diner. Luke spied a couple which he recognized, when Rory had made him pose with Lorelai. In these pictures, he wore a scowl tinged with exasperation and amusement, but the way he held Lorelai, so tenderly, so lovingly, was such that any casual observer would know that this was a man infatuated. The napkins were covered with games of tic-tac-toe and other doodlings, obviously done when Lorelai was feeling particularly bored. He recognized one napkin as their contract for his loan of 30,000. Luke ran a finger over the "Thank-you. LG", which signed off the contract.

Luke took one last look into the box to make sure that he'd not left anything behind. Then he gazed at everything in front of him, wondering if this meant that Lorelai had been ready to give up on him. So monumental was this question that he didn't even know how he felt. Was he angry and disappointed that Lorelai had made this box? Scared that it was signalling the end?

Luke stared at the table, not really seeing what was there. He lifted up the Post-it and read out those five words again in a whisper, again questioning their significance. It then dawned on him, after several minutes of seeing but not looking, that the answer laid not in the words, but in the writer.

It had been _Rory_ who'd written it, not Lorelai. Rory had been the one to try end it for her mother, to sever the final ties with Luke, to spare her mother the pain of having to look at the remnants of a precious, shattered relationship. Lorelai however, had, in all likeliness, been holding onto the box, probably in hope that things would improve.

This was all the answer that Luke needed, and he knew exactly what to do. He packed everything back into the box and grabbed the Post-it and pen. Moving quietly, careful to skip the creaky stair, he eased back into Lorelai's room and found her just as he'd left her. Luke set down the box and slowly, but silently, started to find homes for the contents. The jewellery box went back on the dressing table, while all the clothes ended up on hangers in her overflowing closet. He took out his tools and his oven manual – those would return to the diner – and then stopped, wondering what to do with the remaining odds and ends. Inspiration struck him as he spotted the Post-its. He peeled off the top one and wrote on the note underneath, "To be sorted and put away by you and me. L." He stuck that note onto the half-empty carton with a smile.

Finally, Luke wrote the note that he'd been meaning to write. "There's a large coffee and Danish waiting for you at the diner." He grunted in annoyance when he ran out of room, and ripped it off, sticking it onto her mirror. He took a moment, wondering how to continue, then smiled, writing, "Guess we're both all in together. Love, Luke."

After this note joined the other one, Luke took another glance around the room. He was amazed at how Lorelai had managed to sleep through his movements, and was sorely tempted to say, "To hell with it", and get back into bed with her. However, the diner beckoned, so he simply walked over to the bed, adjusted the covers to tuck her in more tightly, and eased out of the room.

When Luke was ready to open up at 6.00, he wasn't expecting to see any customers lined up, eager to get in. He was right – his usual early morning crowd had dwindled to a couple of stragglers, who were taking their time coming in. Luke's brow wrinkled in annoyance, knowing that he'd have a lot to answer to, when Taylor and the other townspeople started raking him over the coals for his atrocious mannerisms the day before. Grabbing a sheet of chart paper and a board pen, he wrote in large letters, "Half off all items today.", and put the notice up on a window.

Perhaps because they knew that they wouldn't be thrown out, and perhaps because of the sign, more customers ventured in, and soon the diner was almost bustling by 7.30. Many regulars who'd borne the brunt of Luke's wrath yesterday were puzzled by his comparatively beaming mood – in other words, he was as surly and brusque as ever, but the troubadour later ventured that "that man was the most secretively happy man I've ever seen in my life."

Kirk walked in and took a seat by the counter. He was half-disappointed to see the diner so full – he much preferred the solitude that had been present yesterday. However, Luke's food was Luke's food – no way was he going to change his loyalties.

Luke came up and grunted a "Good Morning" to Kirk. "What'll it be?"

Kirk wasn't sure how to proceed. "Er… how about a Cajun pancake?"

Luke scowled in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? Go to Al's Pancake World if you want that crap."

Kirk was about to retort, but stopped. It wouldn't do to get kicked out. "In that case, how about a turkey-ham sandwich, without the ham, and extra mayonnaise, and a medium glass of OJ, no pulp?" He paused, waiting for Luke's usual annoyance to spring forth. He was, therefore, naturally surprised to hear Luke merely grunt again, "Coming right up."

Kirk was debating the possibilities of the existence of a twilight zone, and whether he had stumbled into, or out of one. He was definitely going to have to talk to Andrew about this one. In what seemed an extremely short time, Luke returned with his order. He'd even gone as far as to slice the sandwich horizontally, the way Kirk liked it, and had made the OJ extra-large.

Luke busied himself with filling the coffee pot, when he heard Kirk's voice pipe up. "I only asked for a medium OJ, Luke."

Without turning, he said, "It's all on the house, Kirk."

Luke saw Kirk raising his arm in protest. He turned; hoping to cut Kirk off. Instead, his face froze into the very shocked, wondering look that had been on Lorelai's face right before he'd reached for her. The answer that had been eluding him, the puzzlement over what had actually propelled him over to Lorelai's house last night, was right there on Kirk's wrist, as it had been the night before – in the form of two ribbons, one blue, one pink.

THE END


	2. Processing and Progressing

A/N – Huge beta props to **ecouteuse** and **JeSouhaite** – you ladies rock.

* * *

"Whoever this is, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up," Rory mumbled into the phone.

"Now, is that any way to talk to the woman who birthed you?"

"Mom?"

"And the lady gets ten points! Would you like to try for the bonus round?"

"Mom, it's 6.45…" Rory bolted upright. "Mom, are you okay? Is everything all right at home? You didn't have a run-in with Luke, did you? Oh, man, if Luke said something then I'm gonna have to come right over and-"

Lorelai's chuckles filtered down the phone, interrupting Rory mid-tirade. A perplexed expression crossed Rory's face; she hadn't heard her mother laugh so giddily, so freely, in a very long time. Not since…

Rory gasped. "Mom, is there something you want to tell me?" She bit her lip and pounded her bed in excitement, waiting to hear the words from Lorelai's mouth.

"Hon, there are _so _many things that I'm dying to tell you. For example, did you know that Taylor increased the price of Red Vines again! Boy, was I mad! I mean, there I was with a Red Vine craving-"

"Mom!"

"Rory," her mother admonished, "didn't I tell you not to interrupt Mommy when she's trying to tell a story? I mean, here I am, keeping you up-to-date on all things Stars Hollow so you won't be homesick and you just cut in! M-"

"Mom," Rory was none too pleased at being kept waiting (especially as she had just been dragged out of a _very_ good dream Andrew had been just about to give her a lifetime's supply of books with no caffeine in her system, and her teeth all fuzzy and gross), "you have ten seconds to spill or else I'll tell Michel to be extra-French today."

There was silence at the other end. And then-

"LukeandIarebacktogether!"

The words ran into each other and were half-obscured by Lorelai's squeals, but there was no mistaking their meaning. Rory leapt out of bed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and let out such a shriek of excitement that Paris, rudely awakened next door, flung a shoe at Rory's wall. Rory didn't care though; she was too busy matching her squeals to Lorelai's. She jumped onto the bed, breathlessly laughing.

"Mom, that's incredible!"

"I know!" Lorelai burst into joyful giggles, and Rory revelled in the sheer delight in her mother's voice. After a few moments - "Rory?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom. I'm still here. It's just…, well it's great to hear you laugh again." Rory smiled as she turned onto her back and stretched out.

Lorelai paused. "Was I really that down in the dumps?"

"Mom, you _were_ the dumps!"

"Rory!"

"Aw, come on, you know what I mean. You know you haven't been laughing since Grandma and Grandpa's wedding-". Rory caught herself too late and winced. Trying to cover up her mistake, she carried on. "Seriously, it's as if you won the lottery or something."

Rory's slip had not gone unnoticed by Lorelai, but she let it go. "Well, I got the something, all right."

"Ew! That's too dirty for first thing in the morning! Have some mercy, woman."

"Sorry!" Lorelai chirped. "Rory, this is seriously the best thing that has ever happened to me. Aside from you, of course."

"Why, thank 'ee kindly, ma'am. Now," Rory's voice became more business-like, "tell me exactly what happened. The PG version, preferably."

"Well, I suppose you could say that it all began after you left for your booty call with Logan-"

Rory interrupted her mother with an indignant cough. "That's a… not nice way of putting it, don't you think?"

"Well, honey, it is kind of what happened, isn't it? It did happen, right?"

Rory sighed. "Actually, no."

"Huh?"

"Mom, we didn't sleep together. We just hung out, that's all."

The relief in Lorelai's voice was palpable. "OK, my bad."

Lorelai's sentiments hadn't escaped Rory's attention. Her relationship with Logan hadn't been smooth sailing… well, ever it unsettled Rory to have to keep second-guessing every minute with him. After that one intimate night, she had forced herself to slow down and though Logan occasionally grumbled, she held fast.

But this wasn't the time to talk about that. "You were saying, after I left…"

"Well, anyway, I was going crazy. You know that I painted the garage, right?"

"You mean that retina-searing monstrosity next to our house?" Rory teased, "Yeah, I remember."

"_Anyway,_ I wanted to go outside and add the finishing touches, but it got dark, and I didn't particularly want another run-in with the chuppah."

"Another run-in?"

"Yeah, didn't I tell you?"

"No!"

"I could have sworn that I had told you. It happened right after _Fiddler on the Roof_ had its last performance at the elementary school. I was looking for my Queen CD, you know, the Greatest Hits one-"

"Oh, I think I have that with me. Let's see… yup, there it is, right next to the Beatles."

Lorelai gasped in outrage. "That's sacrilege!"

"Come again?"

"First of all, you _never_ put the Beatles with Queen. They're two greats, Rory. Two greats should not be in the same room together, let alone the same table-"

"Actually, they're on the floor."

Another gasp. "That's even worse. Queen and the Beatles both deserve a nice cushion, you know, the kind with tassels and everything. They do not live on the floor! That's like… drinking instant coffee when you know that the regular is much better."

"Uh, you dare utter the "I" word?"

"Yes, I dare, you klepto! I want Queen back in my handbag, pronto."

Rory sniggered. "Excuse me, did you say 'in your handbag'?"

"Well," Lorelai replied defensively, "you never know when you're going to need something to drown Michel out. And you know how much he hates Queen."

Rory nodded gravely. "Yes, yes I do. It is a slight which I shall never forget."

"Speaking of slights, did you hear about the daughter who was bludgeoned to death for stealing the music that her mother held so dear?"

"I'm sorry, could we actually get back to the part where this story is related to the chuppah? I do have classes in about 45 minutes, you know."

"Alright, then!" Lorelai's voice became more earnest. "Well, as you know, I'm not exactly the most co-ordinated person around, and so when I was busy searching around in my bag, I walked straight into the chuppah and got a pretty hard knock to the head. And even though it hurt like hell, you know that I'm more the type to spew profanity than cry. But, Rory, I couldn't help it. I mean, I'd just seen Luke at the play and I couldn't stop looking at him, and beating myself up over how I'd screwed everything up-"

"Mom, you didn't do anything. It was Dad and Grandma who had to butt in and ruin everything."

Lorelai laughed softly. "Rory, that's sweet. But let's face it. I haven't exactly been an ideal girlfriend lately. Come to think of it, I've never been the ideal girlfriend. I mean, Luke is always so patient, and he puts up with all my quirks and tantrums, and in short he's just so… perfect and reliable and lovable. And I go and do one thousand different things to screw things up, like lie to him about Chris-"

"-which I totally take the blame for-"

Ignoring her, Lorelai ploughed on, "-and make him rearrange his life to suit me, and generally expect him to wait on me hand and foot, like I'm a diva or something. There are so many things I've done that he's never complained about, and I can't for the life of me imagine why he'd want to be with me. He's incredible, Rory, and any woman should be so lucky to have him in her life. And here I was, all 'Hey, I have Luke; I don't need to be sensitive to his moods or his needs.' The point, Rory, is basically that I'm left wondering, 'What is it that I could possibly have that Luke would want?' And this is exactly what I thought when I saw the chuppah that he'd made for me when I was ready to marry another man – just another raring example of how good Luke is to me even when I'm an inconsiderate ass – and I just started crying. I mean, I lost it, big time. All I could think of was how right he was to stay away from me and how I thought that I would never be with him again, and those tears just kept coming along, and I just couldn't stay out there a minute longer. When I looked back on that evening and saw Luke, and how much I had disappointed him, because it was plainly written on his face – well, I couldn't take it."

Rory could hear her mother struggling to hold back the tears. Wiping her own eyes, she said firmly, "Mom, you're being just a little too harsh on yourself here-" – Lorelai made a noise as if to interrupt her, but Rory ignored her – "I let you have your rant so you will let me have mine. You will not talk until I say it's okay for you to do so. Capisce?"

Lorelai made a noise of assent.

However, Rory found that she'd lost count of all the things she'd had to say. She grunted in annoyance. "Look, what you said was true – Luke _has_ always been there for you. But you're forgetting that you've also been with Luke every step of the way. Who bought his fathers' boat back to stop him from making a huge mistake? Who bailed him out of jail? Who helped make his sister's wedding day memorable for the right reasons? Who, generally, made him a lot less dour and more relaxed? That person is you, Mom. You and Luke were meant to be together, and saying that you're a disappointment to him is going too far. You may confuse, annoy, perplex, and astound him, but I don't think that he could ever see you as a failure, no matter what you did or do. Don't sell yourself short, OK? Don't say that you're not good enough for him. Understand?"

Lorelai almost started crying again, but she managed to restrain herself. "If you ever decide to quit school and become a cheerleader, remind me never to stand in your way."

Rory laughed, overwhelmed by the passion of her mother's words. "I'll keep that in mind."

They laughed together, revelling in the mother-daughter moment that, sadly, was becoming far too rare these days. Finally, Rory cut in, "Now I believe that you owe me one fabulous tale of reconciliation?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I don't have all day, so…"

"Geez, get off thy high horse, why don't you?"

"OK, I have dismounted and am all ears."

"Anyway, I decided to stay in and watch the movies that we'd rented, even though I wasn't really in the mood, but I figured, 'Hey, anything's better than moping, right?' So I pulled out a movie and just shoved it in without even looking at what it was, and then that song came on."

"What song?"

""The Man That Got Away.""

Rory was taken-aback. "Wow."

"Wow is just about right. I would have given anything to turn the TV off, but all I could think about was focusing on the lyrics, and how they were describing everything I was feeling and thinking right down to a T. It was like I were hypnotised or something. If I hadn't been so fed up with crying, I would have started right up again at that moment."

"Then…"

"_Then, _I heard this banging on the door." Rory held her breath in anticipation. "I was thinking, 'Maybe it's Kirk trying to sell me insurance, or Babette having a gnome issue.' I really didn't want to talk to anyone, so I went to the door, ready to tell him or her to get lost, and I opened it, and Luke was standing on the doorstep."

Rory shivered in anticipation. "Don't stop _now,_ Mom!"

"Hon, you should have seen him. He looked like a wreck, as if he hadn't slept for days, basically about as good as I'd been feeling, all bleary-eyed with a few new lines around his eyes and on his forehead. At the same time, he was exactly as I remembered him, in the baseball cap I bought him, his ratty old jacket and gloves that were falling apart, and he just looked so solid and comforting and dependable. But the most amazing thing was the look on his face. He was…" Lorelai paused, as she tried to find the words. "He had this… this _look_ on his face, so determined, and as if he'd had an epiphany. I could never forget that look even if I wanted to, Rory."

"For how _long_ were you staring at him? That was some thought processing there."

"Here's the thing. It lasted all of half a second."

"What!"

"Rory, I opened the door, got a look at him, and while I was trying to absorb the enormity of seeing him on my doorstep, he just walked in and pulled me into the most incredible kiss ever!"

"Aw!"

"It was so unbelievably spectacular. Fireworks, heavenly choirs, background music, the whole works. If you had taken every single fantastic thing that had ever happened to me, and rolled it all into a ball, it wouldn't have even begun to compare to how I felt. It was as if I'd been born again."

"Mom, that was beautiful. I'm seriously speechless here-" Rory's voice trailed off as words escaped her. Instead, she squealed again out of sheer joy.

Lorelai winced. "Don't mind me; my hearing's not that vital, anyway."

Rory laughed again. "Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"You know how you said that nothing could ever feel as good and right as being back in Luke's arms?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have you beat." Rory smiled, before continuing softly, "Knowing that your mom is happy again is even better."

Lorelai melted. "Aw, honey."

The silence returned momentarily, but Rory soon broke it. "Is there more to the story? The PG version?"

Lorelai giggled devilishly. "Well, there's a lot more in the NC-17 version. But that's my secret. And Luke's."

"And I pray to the coffee gods that it will remain that way."

"Waking up today was so weird. I mean, it felt like so long since I'd woken up actually looking forward to the day. I was so alienated; I nearly started panicking."

"Was Luke with you?"

"No. He'd already left for the diner."

Rory frowned. "That doesn't seem like the right thing to do, especially as it was your reunion morning."

"But you won't believe what he did."

"What?"

"He found my Luke box."

Rory hissed in frustration. "Oh, man, I wanted to get rid of that."

"Come again?"

Rory sighed. "I knew how much it had killed you to put that box together, let alone dispose of it. I wanted to save you the trouble and lock it away myself."

"As much as I appreciate that, babe, I'm so glad that you didn't."

Now it was Rory's turn to be puzzled. "Why?"

"Hon, not only did he find it, but he brought it back up to my room and put most of the stuff back. Not very neatly, admittedly, but it's all there. The shirt, the dress, the skates, the jewellery, everything."

"You know, it's sounding so repetitive, but I have to say it. Aw!"

"We're going to sort the rest of it out together. As per his instructions."

"His instructions?"

"Yep. It's written right here on a Post-It – _To be sorted and put away by you and me. L."_

"Luke left a Post-It note?"

"Note_s_, as in more than one."

"More than one?"

"You know, I managed quite nicely without the echo."

"Sorry."

"I give you note number 2 – _There's a large coffee and Danish waiting for you."_

"But today isn't Danish day."

"Your point being?"

"Oh, I get it."

"Give the girl a prize."

Rory glanced at the clock, and jumped up in shock. She had exactly 30 minutes to get ready and eat break- _Damn! Make that 20 minutes._ Paris would need at least ten minutes to give her a lecture on roommate etiquette. Not wanting to interrupt Lorelai, she started getting her things together. "Any more notes?"

Rory could hear the smile on her mother's voice. "I saved the best for last."

"Well?"

"_Guess we're both all in together. Love, Luke."_

Rory halted her hunt for her philosophy binder. "You'd better not be kidding about that one."

"No joke!" Lorelai's indignation dissolved into wonder. "I thought I was dreaming, too. But it's as real as Michel's French-ness." She shivered.

Rory paused. "Was that a shiver?"

"How do you do that?"

"I have the gift," Rory proclaimed haughtily, before chuckling and resuming the search for the elusive folder. "Why did you shiver?"

Lorelai took her time replying. "I guess… because I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Yeah." Rory heard Lorelai shift restlessly. "I don't want to screw things up again, Rory."

Rory felt a quasi-maternal instinct when she heard the raw vulnerability in her mother's voice. "Oh, Mom."

"I really need for everything to be right this time. It'd kill me to hurt Luke like I already did."

Rory was ready to give her mother a pep talk, but something stopped her. Instead, she blurted out, "Mom, how do you feel about Luke?"

The pause that followed unsettled Rory. Finally - "I wish I could say that I love him." Even if the words hadn't been clear, Lorelai's hesitant, fearful tone would have said it all.

Rory nearly cried out in surprise, but she checked herself. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, that came out so completely wrong." Lorelai took a deep breath. "I mean, if you're asking how he fits into the scheme of things, he more than fits, he _is_ the scheme of things. I've never felt this way about any other man before, not even your father." Lorelai was again at a loss for words. "I can't imagine my life without him, and I never want to go through this kind of hell ever again. And I'm most definitely "all in". I want nothing more than to be his Lorelai."

"But…"

"But, it's terrifying to feel this way, Rory. For the first time, I'm in uncharted territory. I'm so used to being in control in a relationship, and even before the fiasco, I knew where I stood. But everything's different now. I'm like the little tugboat next to the _Titanic_, and the _Titanic_ is just every single thing that could go wrong."

Rory furrowed her brow in confusion.

"I guess, what I'm unsuccessfully trying to say is, I feel it all. I wouldn't be surprised if I do love Luke. But I'm not sure that I'm ready to find out, let alone say it. I don't want Luke to say it before I do, and not be prepared to say it back."

"Deja-vu."

"What?"

"I seem to remember a similar conversation taking place about four years back, in Grandma's house, with a role reversal…"

Recognition dawned on Lorelai. "Oh my God, you're me! And I'm you!"

Rory chuckled. "Well, seeing as I'm now Lorelai the Second, let me tell you something." Her voice grew more serious. "Mom, the worst thing you could do right now is to rush into something you're not ready for. I get that you don't want to mess things up. But if you angst over it, and try to take control, you'll never be comfortable." Rory gathered her thoughts. "Mom, it will come to you. Trust me on this one. I can't be specific and say when or where or what you'll be wearing, or guarantee that you'll be prepared on a note-card level, but trust me. You will, one day, freely tell Luke Danes, without any reservations, that you, Lorelai Gilmore, love him."

Lorelai spoke hesitantly, hopefully. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

"Thank you so much, babe."

A smile danced around Rory's lips. "Is that any way to address your mother?"

Rory was never as glad to hear Lorelai snort in derision. "Hell, yeah."

They chatted a little while longer, during which time Lorelai teased Rory about waking Paris up, and Rory kept a running countdown of the time left before she was officially late. Although Rory would have loved nothing more than to continue talking with Lorelai, she had Paris and Yale (…and Logan) to face today. She finally convinced her mother to hang up by making another Michel-related threat.

* * *

Back in Stars Hollow, Lorelai felt a huge weight being lifted off her shoulders, removing the last vestiges of the anguish of the past few weeks. She got up and gazed around her room, seeing it with new eyes, wondering at every last trace of Luke that was present there. An enormous grin crept onto her face, as she looked into the future, and saw the next chapter of her life unfold… her life with Luke. 


End file.
